Rainy Days
by ChaosOfTheUniverce
Summary: mild AUish, and increasing ammounts of YuuRam. Wolfram is struggling with his feelings for Yuuri, and goes for a walk on a rainy day. WARNING: includes lotsa angst and a myth about angels. plenty of warm cuddly moments with wolfram and his older brother,
1. Syrup Wars

**A/N: hey, this is just a random little drabble fic that popped into my head during math class yesterday. If you think I should write a sequel, please review! Any plot ideas are totally welcome :) **

It was raining, that day. Wolfram was curled up in a window seat, watching water course down the windowpanes. He had never liked the rain, it always made him moody and sad.

A long time ago, Conrad had told Wolfram a story about the rain. " Every time there is a rainstorm, all the angels up in Heaven are crying," he had whispered to the little blonde boy sitting on his lap. Wolfram remembered how he had snuggled into Conrad's chest, wondering what could possibly make an angel sad enough to cry. Ever since that day, rain had reminded him of cold, hard, gray tears and grief.

Even with the blanket that Gwendel had knitted wrapped around his shoulder, Wolfram still felt cold, and depressed, and...well...alone. Gwendel was always so reserved and aloof, turning up his nose at everyone else. Gunter was disgustingly sappy, Anissina was plain scary, and Conrad was just so...human. Without Yuuri's occasional companionship, he'd probably go insane with loneliness.

Yuuri...where was he, anyway?

Wolfram couldn't remember seeing his fiancé since breakfast. His big, black eyes had looked so quiet and sleepy as he'd eaten his scrambled eggs. Wimp. Although, it was adorable how peaceful and calm and dreamy Yuuri got whenever it rained.

An involuntary sigh escaped Wolfram's throat, much to his disgust. It was ridiculous, how he dwelled on Yuuri, who obviously found Wolfram's attentions irritating. Why, why, **WHY** did he have to be stuck loving the one person in the world who would never love him back?

And where was the Maou hiding, anyway? Knowing him, he had gotten himself kidnaped again, and it was up to Wolfram to rescue him, kill the bad guys, and make it home in time for dinner. Either that, or he was taking a bath.

An absent smile graced Wolfram's cherubic mouth as he remembered his fiancé's affection for long, hot, steamy baths. Yes, he would check the bathes first.

Wolfram uncurled and hopped off of the window seat, feeling very thankful to have his fuzzy red slippers protecting his feet from the icy floor. Wrapping Gwendel's blanket a little bit more tightly around his thin frame, he shuffled off to the Maou's bathroom.

As Wolfram opened the bathroom door, he was greeted with a waft of steam and a faceful of a sticky, sweet-smelling liquid. Someone gasped, and someone else began to giggle. Hard. The laughter was cut short by a loud splash, followed by a gurgle.

"Wonderful, Murata! That should shut him up for a while." The voice sounded suspiciously like Conrad's. And then someone was roughly scrubbing the sticky goo off of Wolfram's face with a soft cloth (probably Gwendel's blanket). The prince opened his eyes to find his older brother grinning down at him. The Great Sage was lounging on a pile of towels, and Yosak was bobbing gently in the pool, sputtering and trying to shake the water out of his ears. They all were dressed in swimming trunks and sporting plastic guns.

"What **was** that stuff you squirted me with?" Wolfram grumbled, putting a hand to his sticky face. "Blackberry syrup!" replied Conrad gleefully. "Murata and Yosak and I were bored, so we decided to have a syrup war! Yuuri left a bunch of water pistols in the bathroom, and we've been having a blast! Wanna join us?"

"Um, no thanks," Wolfram said, grinning in spite of himself. "Hey, do any of you guys know where I could find Yuuri?"

"Uh, yea, I think he's in his room," Murata yawned, absently squirting a stream of purple goo at the red-haired soldier, who was still spluttering in the pool.

Wolfram thanked them, and quickly made his escape.

The last thing he saw before he shut the door was Yosak, sporting ridiculous orange and black tiger-striped trunks, sneaking up behind Conrad with an entire bucket of maple syrup. Conrad's shriek of surprise, mingling with his companion's laughter, followed Wolfram as he hurried up the stairs to Yuuri's bedroom.

**A/N: love it, have it, it's all good, as long as I hear it! **

**Luv ya guys!**

**Chaos x)**


	2. When an Angel Crys

Hi guys! Sorry it took me so long to update. We had semi finals at my school, and stuff like that. Plus I was grounded. But we digress. Lots and lots of credit to Nikkler, who gave me brilliant ideas to work off of! (I was out of ideas and going to just let this story die) Just so you know, anything in _italics _is a memory. Lotsa angst in this chapter, I promise that it'll get better! I just had to nearly kill someone first:) pleasepleaseplease don't forget to review, everybody! I totally love having some outside opinions. And there is a VERY IMPORTANT author note at the bottom of the page, so if you could take a look at that before reviewing, that'd be awesome! Thanx!

**Yami no Megumi**: Thanks for your review!

**Nikkler: **Yes, actually, the syrup war _was_ from personal experience. My friends and I had a mess

day a couple of years ago where we did all of the messy things that we wanted to do on a

regular basis (like mud wrestling, pie eating contests, etc.), and a syrup war kind of morphed out of it.

**xImperfectlyx **: Thank you for your review!

Now then, on to chapter two!

Wolfram was wandering about in the garden. He simply couldn't bear another moment inside, surrounded by well-meaning but totally oblivious people.

It was could outside, and still raining. Now there was mist, too, raking it's foggy fingers through Wolfram's blonde hair, sweeping through his body with bitter coldness, making him shiver with misery. The tears in his eyes blended with the tears of the angels, coursing down Wolfram's face with the essence of sorrow.

Ironically, both Wolfram and the angels wept for the same reason: the loss of love.

"_One of the angels, a beautiful girl named Lydia, was particularly well-liked," Konrart had murmured, slipping his arms more securely around his brother as the little blonde boy had settled in for a long story. "Lydia was sweet and kind to everybody she met. Everyone marveled at her beauty. Her eyes were a deep, expressive, moist black, shining with both beauty and joy. Her hair was dark, too, black as ebony and as long as a lifetime, glowing with a light to rival the sun. But all Lydia's beauty and goodness brought her was sorrow._

"_The angel Zephyr, one of God's favorites, fell in love with Lydia, and begged her to marry him. Lydia, who was fond of Zephyr, but did not love him, was shocked and horrified by this turn of events. The more Zephyr pleaded with her, the more resolute she became not to marry him. Every time Lydia refused to marry Zephyr, she plunged him into utter misery._

"_And Wolfram, you must understand: all an angel consists of is joy. They are the very essence of all that is perfect and true and good. Despair can kill joy: it makes all that is good wither and die. Therefore, it is impossible for an angel to be sad. Joy cannot live where there is misery, so when an angel disappears, he vanishes. As Zephyr did._

"_Needless to say, God wasn't wildly happy with Lydia for vanishing his favorite angel. But it is not a crime not to return love, so technically she had done no wrong. But God was still angry with her, and as the years went by, his fury simmered and festered away._

"_One night, Lydia was looking down on earth, watching over the people below her, when she spied a boy of about 17. He had beautiful golden hair, and dancing green eyes full of warmth. _

"_Lydia's heart turned over and melted. The angel Zephyr had spent two full years failing at what this boy had done in a matter of seconds: capturing Lydia's heart."_

_Konrart paused. The rest of this story wasn't quite G-rated. Resting his chin on his older brother's's chest, Wolfram stared up at Konrart with innocent, expectant eyes. Rather like Lydia's, Konrart's heart turned into butter. 'I'll just skip the gory details, then.' _

"_Without a second thought, Lydia flew down to earth, and...well...seducedtheboy, whispering her love for him into his ear all night long. The boy realized that he returned her love, and asked her to marry him. Lydia happily consented, and returned to heaven to share the good news with her many friends._

"_When Lydia returned to heaven, hey joy made her literally shine with a goodness and beauty that neither heaven nor our world has ever seen before. Her light was so strong and so true, no one could possibly mistake the fact that she was in love, least of all God._

"_At first, God was inclined to be thrilled. His resentment and hatred of Lydia couldn't stand against His happiness at any of his angels falling in love. He wanted there to be more love and joy in the world, and seeing any of His angels that happy made Him content._

"_Then the other foot fell, and God discovered Lydia's true love was a mere mortal boy, entirely unworthy of any angel's affections. In a fury, He flung Lydia out of heaven and forever shut it's immortal gates closed to her. _

"_All of the angels grieved. They had loved Lydia for her goodness and beauty, and were greatly saddened by losing her._

"_And Wolfram, when that many beings of pure joy grieve, all the rules are temporarily suspended, and a sort of magic happens. The gateway between heaven and here lifts, so that everyone can mourn together._

"_None of the angels vanished. They became, for a little while, beings of pure sorrow and misery. The world stopped itself as the angel's tears rained down from heaven, mourning for forgotten and rejected lovers everywhere, and the rest of the world grieved with them." _

_Konrart stopped, glanced at the clock. It was getting late, really, and Wolfram should be in bed. Perhaps they would just finish this story tomorrow. Come to think of it, he was feeling a bit sleepy, as well. Everything was so soothing, from the rain softly tapping at the windows to the warm reassurance of his little brother's body nestled on his lap. Leaning his head back, Konrart closed his eyes and nodded off. Soon all that could be heard in the room was the soft, gentle snoring of the two brothers. _

Wolfram stopped short. He was in a part of the garden that he didn't recognize, and there was something dark looming at him from out of the fog. Half-heartedly, he drew his sword, hoping that whatever it was, it would be big enough to eat him quickly and end his misery. The thing didn't move. Stepping through the curtain of mist, Wolfram realized it was a fountain. A beautiful one, as well.

Without thinking, Wolfram stepped into the pool around it's feet. His stomach turned over as he realized the state was an angel.

She was beautiful, made entirely out of marble. Except for her hair and her eyes: they were made of ebony. her skin was so pale it appeared to glow. Her dress had the softest tint of blue in it. And streaming behind her were a magnificent pair of wings. Each feather was perfect. The angel's eyes were cast heavenward, as water streamed down her cheeks and collected in a pool at her feet.

There was such a look of sadness about this statue, a Despair so real, yet somehow a pride as vast as heaven. Almost as if this women was proud to suffer, and if she could have fixed whatever she had done wrong, she wouldn't.

Wolfram closed his eyes to stop tears from raining down his face. He wished he had even half the strength the women had. But it had all become too much: loving someone who honestly didn't love you back was the most bitter thing in the world, so miserable it took your breath away. And Wolfram wanted his breath back.

Tiredly, he sank down and sat at the base of the statue, ignoring the two feet of water he was not sitting in. He had, after all, already been drenched. A little more water wasn't going to make a difference.

Tilting his face skyward, Wolfram cried harder then he ever had before. He poured out his anger, love, and pain over Yuuri, and somehow knew that the angels were crying for him, crying with him.

And afterwards, he felt better, calmer, purer, as he sat waiting for something to come along the would take his pain away. The last thing he saw before his eyes shut was a small, black-clothed person, running out of the castle and towards the garden.

**Ehh, now my fingers hurt from typing. And by the way, everybody, I'm making a talk show fic hosting the KKM cast. The first character up is Konrart, so if you've ever had a burning question or two that you've wanted to ask Konrart, send me a review and include the questions in it. Thank you so much!**


	3. And Now We Meet

Hey guys! thank you soooo much for all of the awesome reviews! I tried to make this chapter less depressing, so it shouldn't be as heavy as the last one:) enjoy, and please don't forget to review! Oh, and I added the link to a picture of Lydia in my profile, if anyone's interested:)

xoxo

Chaos x)

Aly the Trickster: sorry I made you cry:) I'm glad you like the story, though! aren't you glad I made you watch the movies! I just got the latest one, you should totally come over some time!

Nikkler: thank you for the compliment about the descriptions! And you're write about the angel.

Gwynhafra: glad you liked it! Sorry I didn't make it clear, the person Wolfram sees is Yuuri.

Shuusuke: thank you for the review! Glad you liked it:)

and now, onto...CHAPTER THREE!

Everything was soft and hazy. Somewhere, a woman was singing, her voice low and sweet, but undistinguishable. The words rushed and ebbed, mixing and stretching into an ocean of gentle, soothing noise.

Wolfram felt himself gently rising, leaving his tearstained body behind him, along with his years of sorrow. As he soared, he felt a new, pure, fierce joy envelope him, more powerfully then he could have ever imagined.

But someone was screaming, shrieking at him to wait, to think, to remember...somewhere in Wolfram's mind, a half-forgotten memory stirred. Innocence, black as night, and grieving angels. Wet black arms, strengthened with love and terror. Ebony hair and alabaster wings...

Looking down, Wolfram saw her. Floating next to Covenant Castle, Lydia's wings and hair streamed behind her as she raised an imploring hand, stretching out pale fingers as if to pull Wolfram back to earth.

"Please," she said softly, the wind lifting her whisper to the prince's ear. "Please, come back, you aren't ready, it isn't your time yet. Remember Yuuri. Your fiancé? You can't leave him, letting him mourn until he dies, and joins you in heaven. You...you love him. Don't you?"

Yuuri. The name was like a knife in Wolfram's heart, filling him with a painfully beautiful, intense love. It was obvious, really. Wherever he went, whatever he did, it had to be with Yuuri. All he wanted from life was to be allowed to follow the wimp wherever life swept them both, until one night in their old age, when they would die within seconds of each other, racing up to heaven hand in hand, smiling. That was what he wanted. Not this. Not now.

Reaching down, he took Lydia's hand, letting her pull him back down to where he belonged. As his soul hovered over Covenant Castle, the reckless, unreal joy fled, and was replaced with something calmer, steadier, more constant.

Turning, Wolfram gazed up at Lydia, as she turned to leave. Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out of his mouth.

"Is it true that God threw you out of heaven for killing that angel Zephyr, and falling in love with a human?"

Lydia smiled, but there was a trace of sorrow in her eyes.

"No. You Mazoku have a tenancy to romanticize things, don't you? Nobody threw me out of heaven. I left. Heaven is supposed to be a place full of joy, where every second is a celebration of love. I couldn't live in heaven when my heart was in a different world, along with all that I treasured and held dear. So I left."

"You just left?" Wolfram asked, intrigued against his will. "And God just let you?"

"Yes," Lydia said, floating down next to the young Mazoku and stretching out her legs. "He's not such a bad man, really. He explained it to me very simply: I could kill the boy so that our souls could live together in heaven, I could wait for the boy to die so that our souls could live together in heaven, or I could give up my wings and live with him on earth."

Lydia's face softened as she remembered.

"I'd rather have died again then kill Gaylen. And patience was never one of my virtues. So I flew to heaven's gates, handed over my wings, and jumped. And I never looked back."

"But you've got your wings back now, haven't you? And besides, why aren't you in heaven? After all, Gaylen's dead by now, isn't he?"

Lydia wrinkled her forehead and flapped her wings meditatively.

"That's a very personal question."

Wolfram blushed and looked away, hoping that he hadn't opened up a terribly delicate subject.

"But seeing as it pertains to your own rather teetering love affair," Lydia continued. " I might as well share my story. Gaylen loved me, I've never doubted that. But every time he saw me doing all the laboring tasks that all of the other human women have to do, he would be reminded of everything I had given up so that I could have a life with him, as his wife. As the weeks turned into months, and the months into years, he began to feel guiltier and guiltier for separating me from what he imagined was the happiest place in the world.

"After seven years, Gaylen simply couldn't stand waking up to see my face every morning, reminding him of what I had so happily surrendered so that I could be with him. He kept our most innocent conversations dancing around the fact that he felt inferior, unworthy, dropping little hints at his feelings right and left. Of course, I loved him with all of my heart, and nothing else mattered. But he was blind to that, and looked everywhere for ways to get away from the guilt. Our relationship was completely deteriorating. Gaylen started drinking, and even stopped coming home every night. I was scared, scared to keep him, but more afraid to lose him, and the love we once had shared.

"But he just wasn't strong enough to take it, and one day the guilt became too much. So he left, taking my heart with him. If I had cried for all of eternity, I could never have shed enough tears to ease my sorrow. The other angels saw this, and mourned as well. They know that, as long as I grieved, heaven's gates were closed to me. After all, sorrow doesn't belong in heaven any more then evil does.

"So here I am, and here I'll stay, at least until I find love once more. God has given me back my wings so that I may search more quickly, but so far, they haven't helped much. All I can really do is search, and hope, and wait."

Lydia sighed, and smiled again through her tears, slipping her arm around Wolfram's shoulder.

"I suppose I'm just trying to say, don't give up on love. The right person only comes along once, and if you lose patience or faith and move past that person, you will regret it forever."

Wolfram stared out across the soggy garden and swallowed thickly.

"I'd never give up on Yuuri."

The two rejected lovers sat in silence together for a moment, leaning on each other and listening to the rain tapping softly on the castle roof. The melancholy emptiness was broken by the clatter of galloping horse hooves on cobblestone, as a carriage pulled up in front of the castle. Giesela got out hurriedly, clutching her medical bag.

Lydia sighed, and wiped away a few tears.

"Looks like your doctor is here. Are you ready to rejoin your body?"

"Why would I need a doctor?" Wolfram asked, looking slightly alarmed.

Lydia chuckled softly.

"You were sitting in freezing water for nearly two hours. What did you expect? You nearly died. Yuuri went ballistic when he couldn't find you, and nobody had seen you for three hours. He enlisted all of the servants and all of your brothers to help him search the castle, the stables, and the grounds. He was the one who found you in my fountain. I've never seen anyone look as terrified as Yuuri did when he couldn't wake you up. You know, her really loves you.

"Anyway, let's get you back in your body. Are you ready?"

Wolfram swallowed and nodded, suddenly feeling rather nervous.

Slipping her arms around his waist, Lydia began beating her wings furiously. The twosome rose up into the clouds, higher and higher, and then dropped like a stone. They rushed through the air, the castle roof vaporizing about their feet. Lydia careened through the castle wildly, up, right, down, left, the walls melting just before they crashed into the tapestries. The world blended into a rushing mass of color, spinning and swirling sickeningly past Wolfram's eyes.

And then it was over. The world ceased it's wild twisting, and all of the violent colors faded into a deep velvety black, encasing the blonde in it's darkness as Lydia let him go and he fell gently down, his consciousness receding away into the darkness as his soul fused with his body.

YUURIYUURIYUURI

Time seemed to slow as Yuuri sat by his- no, by _their_ bed, holding his fiance's hand and praying with every fiber of his being for a miracle.

Giesela knelt beside Yuuri, and slipped a thermometer into Wolfram's mouth. God, how she hated this part of her job. Telling the family members was always the hardest part.

"Yuuri," she began, as gently as she could. "You know, it's very possible that he won't recover. He was very, very close to freezing when we found him. You should...prepare yourself."

"He'll be fine," Yuuri said evenly, leveling a calm glare at the healer. "He's been through worse."

"Yuuri, he's got to want to get better for me to be able to help him," Giesela whispered, fighting off tears. Heaven knew that SHE was fond of Wolfram too. "Until he tries, and wants to cure himself, there is really nothing that I can do."

"Why?" Yuuri said, a trifle hysterically. "Why **wouldn't** he want to get better? Doesn't he love us? Wouldn't he miss us? Why isn't he **trying**?"

Giesela was silent. Turning away from the mute healer, Yuuri glared at Konrart and Gwendel, who were standing behind him. Both of the demon brothers refused to meet the king's ferocious gaze as well.

"What's going **ON**?" Yuuri felt fear rising in his chest. "What aren't you telling me, why aren't you LOOKING at me? You're acting like you think I HATE him, and I'm rejoicing that he might very well never wake up!"

"No one's questioning your love for Wolfram, Yuuri," Konrart interjected quietly. "Everybody knows how much you care. Or at least, almost everybody..."

The boy-king paused, his face flushed from his verbal rampage. Then he got it.

'_Oh, **Jesus**. I never told him, did I? Oh, God, I'm such an idiot.'_

Shaking off the urge to jump out of the nearest window, Yuuri stared down at Wolfram's pale, peaceful face, and tried to imagine a life without the grumpy blonde always by his side, correcting him and loving him. He didn't get very far.

A life without Wolfram? Impossible. The two of them went together like Valentine's Day and the color pink. Without Wolfram there to call him a wimp, Yuuri was fairly certain that he would go mental.

The tranquil, happy smile on Wolfram's face was becoming too painful to look at. The contentedness, the calm reasonableness in the blonde's smile was so unnatural, such a complete stranger to his face. Looking away from the mellow tameness, Yuuri sighed, and unconsciously squeezed his fiance's hand.

The hand squeezed back. Albeit rather painfully, but Yuuri couldn't have cared less. Ignoring the fingernails that were now gouging at his palm, he bent over to reexamine the blonde's expression. His face was flushed, and his forehead had a shining coat of beaded sweat on it, as if his temperature was rising rapidly. Pained expressions spasmed across the blonde's face, and unshed tears wetted his golden eyelashes.

"G-Giesela," Yuuri stuttered, voice shaking, too terrified to hope, to terrified to be let down. " Giesela, something's happening. Hurry!"

The green-haired healer dropped her cloak and her medical bag, and rushed back to her patient. The first thing she noticed was the little red line snaking it's way up the thermometer. Not good. Snatching it out of Wolfram's mouth, she flung it out of the window.

It sailed through the air for a moment and then exploded, raining bits of glass and mercury down on the cobblestones.

Turning back to the bed, Giesela carefully checked all of Wolfram's vital signs, a disbelieving look on her face.

"I...don't believe it. He's fine. **FINE**. Apart from a very sever cold that he certainly can't escape, that is. It appears that we've got our miracle!"

Yuuri blinked, and sagged down on the bed next to his feisty fiancé. He wasn't certain that his legs could hold him. Giesela, looking displeased, pulled him right back off of the bed.

"Let Wolfram alone, he needs his rest. He just cheated death, for Shinou's sake! You can cuddle him all you want when he wakes up. **Not before**."

Konrart chuckled at the embarrassed and guilty expression on Yuuri's face, and gently escorted Giesela out of the room. Yuuri obviously was not going to obey the healer and stand ten feet away from Wolfram with his hands behind his back as he watched the blonde sleep, and there was no point in the king getting mauled by The Sergeant.

Once he was certain that he was alone, Yuuri tugged a love seat up beside the bed, and tried very hard to restrain himself from immediately glomping onto his partner. Settling down on the overstuffed sofa, Yuuri grudgingly allowed himself to doze off. The last thing that he did before he drifted away was to reach out a shaking hand and softly stroke his betrothed's cheek, before intertwining their fingers and closing his heavy eyes.

**A/n: so there you have it! Another chapter:) this probably wasn't very good writing, it was kind of a rush job. I promise that the next chapter will be better! please don't forget to review :)**

**much love!**

**Chaos x)**


	4. AN VERY important

ATTENTION ALL!!!! Sorry (very, VERY sorry) for the delay in publishing chapters. I

have had a MAJOR writer's block (YES, for almost half a year, don't rub it in!!). I tried

all sorts of scenes and scenarios for when Wolfram woke up, and nothing really fit. Now

it's time to ask you for help; I want ALL OF YOUR IDEAS ON HOW TO FINISH THIS

STORY OFF!!! GIVE ME IDEAS EXPECIALLY FOR HOW TO MAKE WOLFRAM

WAKE UP, SUCH AS WHERE HE MIGHT WAKE UP. Thank you so very, VERY

much.

Much love,

Chaos

p.s. Poll time; how many people say kill Wolfram off and leave Yuuri to suffer for all

eternity?


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